


A Meeting of Minds

by Caelum_Blue



Series: Caelum's Canonverse [11]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ba Sing Se University, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Libraries, Pre-Series, Psychology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelum_Blue/pseuds/Caelum_Blue
Summary: 21 years pre-series.In Ba Sing Se University’s library, the director of the Dai Li's newly-formed Reeducation Branch discovers the student who will one day be his right-hand man.
Series: Caelum's Canonverse [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/817911
Comments: 21
Kudos: 19





	A Meeting of Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see, how long ago did I start this one...? 2016? Really? Could've sworn it was older than that but what do I know...
> 
> Thanks to Stingrae for all her hard work in helping me sort out my headcanons and OCs, she's the best!
> 
> No real warnings for this one, but it's the Dai Li so brainwashing is mentioned a lot.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a chilly afternoon, just a few days past the start of winter, and the sky was gray with the promise of snow in the near future. Ba Sing Se University’s campus grounds were empty of people - students and professors alike were hiding indoors, not daring to venture out of their lecture halls without very great need. The library was proving to be a popular refuge, and students milled about the shelves, some of them actually studying while others socialized quietly. Sometimes not so quietly, and that was when the wrath of the librarians fell upon their heads.

Shirong was mildly annoyed at the influx of traffic in his usual haunt, but he paid the students little heed; his attention was taken up by a book. Or, rather, his attention was taken by the  _ lack _ of a book. He knew for a fact that Li Fei’s  _ Maladies of the Mind _ was supposed to be  _ right here, _ on  _ this shelf _ \- he knew because, despite it having been a decade since he’d graduated, he still came to the university’s library on a regular basis, and he knew exactly where every book he regularly consulted was shelved. He frowned at the empty space, glanced at the surrounding book spines just to make sure he was in the right spot and - yes, sure enough, he was. But the book was not. Which meant it was  _ missing. _

Shirong huffed to himself. He should have brought his own copy from home - but of course, why would he? He was going to a  _ library. _ He had not thought he would  _ need _ to.

Grumbling, he clutched the stack of books already in his arms even tighter, as though some student would swoop out of nowhere and snatch them away, and he stalked down the aisle. Fine. He would get by without  _ Maladies of the Mind. _ It was an extremely basic work, anyway, not necessarily  _ necessary _ to what he was looking up right now - he just liked having it near at hand, for reference, should he need it. He would manage without.

Of course this would happen today, the one day he finally had time to come to the library. It had not even been a  _ long _ day - cold and cloudy and edging on miserable, but otherwise an average day. 

But it  _ had _ been a long...a long…

Hm.

Shirong mentally flipped through the timespans. A long week? Yes, it had certainly been a long week - he had run into a bump with his latest test subject, and while the man was just a Lower Ring murderer and thus fortunately expendable, Shirong needed to figure out what had gone  _ wrong, _ exactly, so that he did not have a repeat performance with anyone who was  _ not. _ He would hate to permanently break a Joo Dee’s mind beyond all repair.

So it had been a long week.

But then Shirong thought about how long the week before had been, too - the agents under his command were adapting to their new job well enough, but reeducation was a tricky business and a new scientific frontier and no one was really  _ entirely _ sure what they were doing yet. And the week before  _ that _ Shirong had had a very serious conversation with Long Feng - they needed more Joo Dees, they needed to be able to reeducate more citizens in a timely manner, they needed more agents in Reeducation. 

So it had been a long month.

But, really, the last  _ few months _ had been pretty long as well, now that Shirong thought about it. It had been three or four months now since that Diwu boy had disappeared, and the Dai Li were turning the city upside-down to find the missing nobleman. And the Dai Li themselves were still acclimating to their organization’s restructuring under Long Feng’s command. The newly-created Reeducation Branch was only one facet of those changes - they had something called the Investigations Branch now as well, and everything that had to do with their former cultural preservation duties had been consolidated into the Preservation Branch at the insistence of Roulan Li. And hadn’t  _ that _ been a fun day, about - Shirong did the math - six months ago now. Roulan had challenged Long Feng to a duel to settle their disagreements over how he was running the Dai Li. It had ended in a very violent draw, but Roulan had been content with winning the Preservation Branch as a consolation prize.

So it had been a long half a year.

Except it had been about eight months since Long Feng had established the Reeducation Branch and put Shirong in charge of it, and Shirong had been dealing with such interesting experiences as being a leader and directing subordinates and training people in reeducation techniques and dealing with the rest of the Dai Li adjusting to the concept of brainwashing, and coworkers who could brainwash people, and brainwashing being a viable means of taking care of the city.

And nine months ago the 51st Earth King had been assassinated and Prince Kuei had ascended to the throne at the tender age of four and Long Feng had accelerated his power-grabbing to keep the 52nd Earth King safe. And the months preceding those events had not exactly been relaxing, either.

So really it had been a long  _ year. _

Shirong refused to think back any farther than that. 

Well. He had lived through all  _ that, _ so far. He could deal with the library not having a book.

He stomped past a pair of lovers canoodling in a shadowy corner and a study group discussing genetic science, making his way through the shelves to the farthest reaches of the library. Normally it was quiet back here, and the only humans to be seen were those who actually  _ were _ here for studying. Today, however, with the cold driving everyone indoors, there were students milling about even in the very back of the library. At least they jumped out of his way when they saw him coming. Shirong was gratified that he did not need to be wearing the Dai Li uniform to have that effect on people.

Finally, he reached the aisle of shelves that led to his table. One of the perks of coming here so often - the students knew that his favorite study table was completely off-limits.

Which was why, when he rounded the corner and found someone  _ sitting _ at it, Shirong froze and stared.

The man was young - still a boy, really,  _ maybe _ late teens, beardless - and he was hunched over a book, dutifully taking notes on whatever he was reading. Well. At least he was using Shirong’s table to  _ study. _ Still, it was so unexpected that Shirong merely stared at him for a full minute, until the student suddenly looked up and met his eyes.

"...Hello?"

"You are in my seat," Shirong said stiffly.

"I've been sitting here for three hours," the boy said. "And it was empty before that."

"It was empty because it’s my seat."

The boy stared at him.

“I sit here,” Shirong elaborated. “Often.”

The boy blinked, and then suddenly blanched.  _ “Oh _ . Oh, right, sorry - sorry, I forgot - I didn’t know you’d be around, today. It’s just, no one was using it, and all the other ones are taken because  _ everyone’s _ in here, and - I’m sorry, I’ll move.” He went to get up, and Shirong stopped him with a sigh.

"Don't bother," he said, eyeing the many books the boy had piled around him. "I'll find somewhere else."

"Well," said the boy, "you could take the other side of the table..."

Part of Shirong balked at the idea of spending  _ his _ research time in the presence of another human being. Another part told him to just sit down and get to work. It would be best if he stayed at this table, anyway - most students did not know what to make of him, and even actively avoided him, and if he went looking for another table that’d make everyone else reshuffle their seating arrangements and then he would ruin the entire status quo of the library.

“Very well,” he said, setting his own books down. “But I do expect you to be  _ quiet.” _

“Oh, of course,” the boy nodded.

Shirong ignored him in favor of cracking open the first of his books and beginning to read.

He wasn’t expecting the boy to be a decent table companion, partially because Shirong’s ideal company was no one, and partially because, given everything else the world had been throwing at him recently, he was no longer surprised at the many crises, problems, and annoyances that came his way. It really had been a long year.

For a while, it was silent, save for the murmurings of students in the aisles. Shirong kept his nose in his book, and for the most part the boy did the same, though Shirong did notice him speculatively eyeing Shirong’s reading material. Other than that, the boy did nothing to draw attention to his presence, other than being present, and aside from the occasional noisy page-turn, Shirong found him easy to ignore. It was better than he had expected, really. He might even say that the boy was the perfect table companion - if not for the fact that Shirong’s perfect table companion was literally nobody. 

Just because the boy was not a nuisance, however, did not mean other people were not. A few students walked past, some carrying books, others just talking, and Shirong privately hoped for a librarian to leap out of nowhere and shush them. It happened once with a group of students whose chatter was bordering on boisterous, and the angry  _ Shhhhh! _ made Shirong smile smugly. At one point a giggling couple slipped into the shadows beside the table, obviously  _ not _ intending to study, and Shirong and the boy both gave them a stern look. Well, Shirong did - the boy’s frown did not seem to have any effect, but one look at Shirong’s face was enough to give the canoodlers second thoughts and make them turn back the way they came.

The boy looked surprised for a moment, but then he caught sight of Shirong’s expression and grinned. “Oh,” he chuckled, “that never works when I do it.”

Shirong snorted, but he did not say that that was probably because the boy did not look imposing in the least. He likely already knew.

The boy hesitated, and then he asked, “What do you teach, sir?”

The question was funny enough that Shirong forgot to be irritated at the conversational opener. “I don’t,” he snorted. “I just come here for research.”

The boy looked disappointed, of all things. “Ah,” he said. “So...what do you research?”

“Psychoanalysis.” That ought to shut him up - it always shut people up. It was a newer science, and people were never really sure what to make of it. Shirong turned back to his book, certain that the boy would accept his studies as beyond his comprehension and drop the subject.

Quite the opposite happened, however. “Yeah,” the boy grinned, looking at Shirong’s reading material. “I figured. Hey, have you read Sheng Peng’s  _ Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality, _ and if so, what were your thoughts?”

“I make a point of reading as little of Peng’s work as possible,” Shirong said, unable to keep the distaste from voice.

The boy snorted. “Lucky.”

“You read them?”

“He makes us buy his books for our classes,” the boy grumbled.

“Oh,” Shirong said. “Of course. He’s a professor now. I forgot.”  _ On purpose, _ he might add. Then his brain caught up with him. “You attend Peng’s classes?” 

“Unfortunately,” the boy said. “Not like there’s a lot of other professors of psychoanalysis to choose from.”

“You study  _ psychoanalysis?” _ Shirong repeated, looking the boy up and down in a new light. His eyes lit on the book he was reading, and Shirong couldn’t help but stare. So that was where  _ Maladies of the Mind _ had gone.

Well. Consider his interest piqued.

“Yeah,” the boy said. “It’s interesting. It’s like...healing, I guess? Except I’ve never been big on blood, so I never wanted to be a physician. But, like, studying how people live their lives? And how our minds work? And being able to help people with that? Yeah, I like it.”

“So,” Shirong surmised, “you want to help people.”

The boy brightened. “Yeah, exactly.”

Well, wasn’t that interesting.

Shirong thought of the enormous city Long Feng was slowly but surely pulling under his control with the support of the Dai Li and various government officials. He thought of the traumatised refugees pouring in by the thousands, whose stories of Fire Nation brutality were panicking the citizens. He thought of Joo Dee’s brilliant smile and polite manner and utter willingness to be of assistance.

He thought of the measly six agents he had under his command, the only people in the Dai Li he’d found both willing and capable of understanding psychoanalysis and reeducation, and how he was going to need so many more if he was going to be able to pull off what Long Feng wanted.

Psychology was a new field, but even so, it was being  _ taught. _ Why hadn’t he thought of university students sooner?

...Probably because Professor Sheng Peng was their main teacher. Shirong wouldn’t trust anyone that man deemed a star pupil. Though if this boy was any indication, perhaps there were students who had reservations about their professor’s methods.

Maybe Shirong should start considering university students.

_ You cannot just induct him into the Reeducation Branch, _ Shirong told himself.  _ You have only just met him. _ But it was not often that Shirong found someone as interested in the human mind as he was. It might be worth keeping an eye on the boy. He seemed to dislike Peng’s work, at least, and that was a character reference in and of itself. 

“My name is Shirong Zongzheng,” Shirong said. He relished the flabbergasted look on the boy’s face for a moment before adding, “For spirits’ sake, pick your jaw up.”

“Sorry,” the boy said, not quite done gaping. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to -  _ Zongzheng? _ Really?”

“Yes, really,” Shirong said. “Who are you?”

“Oh, it’s - I’m Huo, sir. Huo Bai.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Huo Bai,” Shirong said, and he found that he actually meant it.

Huo favored him with a quick, polite bow. He still looked a little dazed. “So...are you the same Shirong Professor Peng likes to complain about?"

Shirong was delighted at that tidbit of information. “Most likely,” he said. “We don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on a lot of things.” There were a few things Shirong thought Peng had gotten right, or half-right, but for the most part he did not pay the man much attention anymore. Not even to keep up with what nonsense he was spouting these days. He wondered if he should leave well enough alone, but, well, he was curious. “Might I ask what he has to say about me?”

“Uh,” said Huo. “Well...he spent a lot of last year griping about your opinion that his work wasn’t scientific enough.”

Shirong snorted. Well, that was what you  _ got _ when your evidence concerning people’s mental states was grounded in plays, literature, and personal anecdotes.

“This year, though,” Huo added, “he hasn’t had much to say. I mean, you haven’t put out any papers or anything... He seems to think you’ve washed up.” He shrugged, but the look he gave Shirong was considering.

Shirong huffed. “I most certainly  _ have not.” _ He had been making leaps and bounds in his own studies, and while it stung that the highly classified nature of his work meant he would never be able to brag about it to his academic colleagues, well. It did not matter. Shirong’s work was more important than academic recognition - it was going to help Long Feng save the city. 

Let Peng think what he wanted. What Shirong was doing went so much farther beyond anything that genital-obsessed braggart could ever dream up.

And it wasn’t like he couldn’t at least say a  _ little _ about what he was doing. In the very vaguest terms. It could be a good chance to see what this young man might think of such things. “I’ve been studying the effects of hypnosis, particularly when used as a calming technique,” Shirong offered.

“Huh.” Huo looked thoughtful. “That sounds interesting. Is it, like, to get to repressed memories, or…?”

“No,” Shirong said. “No, not at all, this is an entirely new application. It’s more like...helping patients settle into a better state of mind. A happier, calmer, more productive state of mind.”

“So, like,  _ literal _ mind healing?” Huo asked, intrigued.

“Yes.”

“Wow,” Huo said. He digested that for a moment, and then he peered at Shirong, curious. “Does...you’re with the Dai Li, aren’t you?”

Shirong nodded.

Huo thought it over. “So...mind healing...helping people like that...is that something they’re doing?”

“It is definitely of interest to Minister Long Feng,” Shirong said carefully. “With his recent restructuring of the Dai Li and his goal of pacifying the city, he’s hoping such a thing might be of use, and that it could be broadly implemented.”

“That’s...really smart of him, actually.”

“He’s a smart man.”

“He is,” Huo nodded earnestly. “And effective. I heard he’s doing a lot to clean up the crime in the Lower Ring. That was...really comforting to hear.” For a brief moment, he looked morose.

Shirong was curious. “Why would a Middle Ring university student like yourself care about the unrest in the Lower Ring?”

“My dad was killed there,” Huo said quietly.

“...Oh,” Shirong said. “My condolences.”

Huo grimaced. “Thanks,” he said, with a helpless shrug, and then he blatantly changed the subject back to science. “So this hypnosis technique...is it still theoretical, or have you actually found a way to make it work?”

Shirong thought of his latest Joo Dee - transformed from a traumatized, melancholy, exhausted woman with no prospects into one of the Dai Li’s most cheerful and hard-working assets. “There is still some theory to be worked on,” he said, “but the practical experiments have been progressing  _ very _ nicely.”

Huo looked impressed.

“I am not going to go into detail,” Shirong said. “I hope you understand.”

Huo snorted. “Yeah, I get it, academic safeguarding and all that. Though frankly if I  _ did _ poach your ideas I’d be shocked if anyone believed a seventeen-year-old university second-year claiming he came up with it over Shirong Zongzheng.”

Shirong allowed himself a smile.

“It’s a pity you  _ don’t _ teach,” Huo said. “I think you’d be much better at it than Professor Peng.”

“Such high praise,” Shirong said dryly.

Huo snorted. “Yeah, it’s a low bar.”

Shirong weighed his conversational options and decided it wouldn’t be  _ too _ harmful to indulge in some brief pettiness. “Is he that poor of a teacher?”

_ “I _ think so,” Huo huffed. “But people are pretty split on it. Some students love him and some hate him and a lot don’t see any point in feeling one way or the other since he’s one of the only people teaching this stuff. Which makes it easy for him to win people over, since they don’t have much choice. Even Kwan likes him now.”

“Kwan?” Shirong asked.

“Kwan Jung,” said Huo. “He used to be my friend. Now he’s just a kiss-up.” He went to jot something down on his paper, but paused after one stroke to frown at his graphite stick. It’d gone blunt. Huo rolled the tip of the stick between his fingers until it tapered into a point. Satisfied, Huo went back to writing.

Shirong blinked. “You’re a bender?”

Huo frowned and shrugged. “Not much of one.” Which explained why he was here at the university, studying psychology, instead of off learning some trade he could use his bending in. Ba Sing Se had rules about that - benders were a valuable resource. If you had the gift, you were expected to use it to help the city. Exceptions were made for the upper class, of course, and those whose bending power wasn’t enough to be useful. “I doubt I could even push a train.”

“How about a lantern?” Shirong asked before he could stop himself.

Huo blinked. “A...what?”

“Well,” Shirong amended, “a lantern-sized stone. Could you move that?”

“Uh,” Huo said, “I think so?”

Shirong nodded to himself. Huo looked confused, but didn’t ask. Smart young man.

“Well,” Huo said, “if you ever  _ do _ decide to teach, sir...I’d very much like to learn from you.”

“Thank you, but I have no current plans to do so,” Shirong said. Huo nodded, resigned, and Shirong added, “Not professionally.”

Huo looked up at him, cautiously hopeful.

“If you would ever like a break from Pengian philosophy…”

“I’d like that,” Huo said, mildly desperate. “I’d like that very much.”

Shirong rapped his knuckles on the wood in front of him. “This is my table. Feel free to use it whenever you like. It’s always open. Literally.” Hopefully the other students would not take Huo studying there as a sign that  _ they _ could study there as well, but if enough of them saw them sitting here  _ together _ they would probably get the message.

“Thanks,” Huo said. “Think you can teach me how to look at people and make them go away, too?”

Dai Li robes were an easy way to achieve that goal. “Perhaps,” Shirong smiled.

_ Huo Bai _ , he thought, committing the name to memory. Huo Bai. Shirong had a good feeling about this. A lesser person might balk at being so invested in someone they’d just met, but Shirong’s skills and line of work very literally had to do with getting into people’s heads. He might not know much about the young man’s family, background, beliefs, opinions, or personality - but he’d gleaned enough over the course of this conversation to paint an intriguing picture. Huo Bai was earnest in his interest, had a foundation in psychology, had personal reasons to support Long Feng’s goals, disliked Sheng Peng, and wanted to help people. The exact sort of person Shirong needed in Reeducation. 

_ Keep an eye on this one, _ Shirong thought to himself as he turned a page in his book. Something told him it would not be long before he extended an invitation.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are love! <3
> 
> This is set 21 years pre-series, 15 years pre-Gilded Green. Huo is 17, Shirong is 30, Long Feng's been in charge of the city for less than a year. Funny story: I could've sworn I had Kuei becoming king at age 5, thus giving Long Feng 20 years in charge, but then I saw these notes and double checked my calendar and lo and behold I actually had the poor kid crowned at 4, lol.
> 
> Shirong Zongzheng: Hoarding university and student resources to himself since the first day he attended classes. XD
> 
> Idk if y'all remember him, but if you've read Gilded Green, Huo features as Shirong's favorite subordinate and the host of the birthday party interlude. Huo's son is Shirong's godson.
> 
> Shirong: *points at some kid he just met* Is anyone gonna parent that?  
> Shirong: *tucks them under his arm* Cuz I'm sure not.
> 
> Sheng Peng is a Sigmund Freud expy. _Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality_ was a book written by Freud in 1905. Kwan Jung is a Karl Jung expy. Lee Fei and _Maladies of the Mind_ are names I made up on the fly and represent no one and nothing.


End file.
